


1948 Waterbury Street

by Miss_Vile



Series: Nygmobblepot One Shots [2]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Chief of Staff Edward Nygma, Childhood Trauma, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Martin is mentioned, Mayor Oswald Cobblepot, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Not a graphic reference just a couple of sentences, Oswald is adorable, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Postpartum Depression, Referenced Suicide Attempt, Season 3, The Golden Timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-02 17:18:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19446028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Vile/pseuds/Miss_Vile
Summary: Edward was quiet for a long time after that. They both just sat on the sofa and watched the dying embers.“You know... when she approached me, there was a part of me that was really hoping that maybe she was real. That maybe she could have been my second chance at happiness.”“You could still have that.” Oswald swallowed hard “Whose to say that you won't find someone new?”“Even if I did, I don't want it.” Ed chuckled at his own perceived weakness, “I should take my own advice. Stay unencumbered.”“Yes... you're right. Unencumbered is best.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was meant to be one chapter but it grew legs and ran off...
> 
> EDIT: I fixed a BUNCH of typos. I didn't really proofread it when I first posted and now I feel like a dunce. I also tried to fix some of the pace issues.

Edward was late to dinner.

He was never late. The man always arrived precisely on time. Which is why, when Edward stumbled back into the manor as the milky-blue of daybreak broke through the windows, Oswald knew something terrible must have happened.

Edward's mile-long stare made Oswald's blood run cold. It froze him in place. His initial instinct had been to run to him and throw his arms around his beloved friend. Instead, they just stood there. Staring.

“I am so, _so_ sorry... I...” Ed's arms hung limply at his sides, “I didn't mean to keep you waiting.” His hand clenched around his phone where frantic messages from Oswald still cluttered in his inbox. An inbox which was now full.

“Do you have any idea what time it is? Or how _worried_ I was?” Oswald's nostrils flared

Edward winced, “I know. Again, I'm _sorry._ ”

“I thought you were dead, Edward!” Oswald couldn't hide the fury in his eyes. He was angry. All of the food Olga had prepared had gone cold. Most of it had to be thrown away. Oswald had been so distraught that he hadn't eaten. He hadn't slept. Instead, he just spent the evening tormented by the thought of Edward dead in a ditch somewhere or that the man had deduced his motivations for dinner that evening and had run away from him.

A noise erupted from Edward that Oswald had not been expecting.

In all of the time that he had known Edward Nygma, he had never once seen him cry. Now, here he was, howling in the doorway.

Oswald nearly tripped over himself as he ran towards Ed. The taller man's knees buckled and sent them both crumbling to the floor. Unsure of what to do exactly, Oswald started rubbing circles on his friend's back and tried to reassure him that, whatever it was, everything was alright now.

This had not been how Oswald expected his evening to go. Not in the slightest. As Edward's cries became less haggard and the initial shock of it all had dissolved, Oswald found himself feeling awkward and apprehensive. If Oswald and his feelings were the reason for Edward's vanishing act and his sudden collapse to the floor, Oswald was probably making it worse by holding him. He carefully pulled himself away from the man in green and stared at the floor in shame.

“Ed... if I've done something to upset you-”

“No! No, that's not it at all, Oswald.” Ed's voice was frantic

“Then what happened?”

Edward told him all about the woman he had met at the winery. How she had introduced herself with a riddle. How Ed had run away from her but she followed him out into the parking lot because he had forgotten his wine on the counter. How he had strangled her and her body was currently stuffed in the trunk of his car.

“So... you didn't come to dinner tonight because you saw someone who reminded you of your old girlfriend?”

“You're not understanding, Oswald! This woman looked _just_ like Miss Kringle! Her height, her eye color, her voice... God, her _voice._ I thought...” he started to hyperventilate again, “I thought maybe I was hallucinating again... but then I killed her.”

“Did anyone see you?”

“No... but... Can you go look?”

“Excuse me?”

“I need you to go look at the body. Please. Confirm that she looks like Kringle and I'm not just crazy!” Ed pleaded

“Yes... Of course. You stay here.”

Oswald had seen plenty of dead bodies. Many of which had been a direct result of his own actions. So he was fully prepared to find the unfortunate corpse of some random woman in the trunk of Ed's car.

What he wasn't prepared for was to not find a body at all.

“What do you mean _she's not there?_ ”

“There's nothing in your trunk, Ed... There's no body.”

“But... I... I _killed_ her! She was there! I _know_ she was!” Ed started pacing

“Edward... perhaps the stress of the job-”

“No! I'm not... That's not... UGH!” Ed slumped down on the sofa with a growl. He palmed his eyes in his frustration

“What is it then?”

“...I should have never left Arkham.”

“Now, hold on a minute-” Oswald was beginning to panic

“I'm _clearly_ insane!”

“N-No. Edward, you're just-”

“Just _what_ , Oswald? Stressed?” he scoffed, “I just hallucinated that I murdered someone! I-I almost...” his voice trailed. He was unsure of how to tell Oswald about the gun in his pocket and how he had it placed to his temple less than an hour ago.

“You almost what?” Oswald sat next to Edward on the sofa. The fire had died down hours ago and was just smoldering embers at this point. Ed was shivering. Oswald placed his hand on Ed's shoulder but Edward quickly jerked his body upward and away from Oswald's warmth.

“S-Stay away. I... I could hurt you.” Ed stammered

“You're not going to hurt me.” Oswald tried to be reassuring

“You don't know that! What if I have another episode and I end up killing you?” The thought sent Edward reeling, “I need to leave. I need to go back to Arkham.”

“I am _not_ taking you back there!” Oswald was crying now, “Please... there has to be another way. I won't lose you to that awful place again.”

Edward felt his chest tighten. He wasn't entirely sure why. He couldn't help but feel like such a disappointment to the man he had coveted and idolized for so long. Not to mention the fact that Butch Gilzean was still at large and could show up if he felt like Oswald was vulnerable in any way.

“You need to stay busy. It'll distract you...” Oswald's voice was small

“Perhaps you're right.”

“Of course, I'm right.”

Edward was quiet for a long time after that. They both just sat on the sofa and watched the dying embers.

“You know... when she approached me, there was a part of me that was really hoping that maybe she was real. That maybe she could have been my second chance at happiness.”

“You could still have that.” Oswald swallowed hard “Whose to say that you won't find someone new?”

“Even if I did, I don't want it.” Ed chuckled at his own perceived weakness, “I should take my own advice. Stay unencumbered.”

“Yes... you're right. Unencumbered is best.” Oswald watched as the last of the embers died.

* * *

It had been a full year since Oswald had won the mayoral election. Luckily, with Edward by his side, nothing seemed to jeopardize his political position. His job as Kingpin, on the other hand... There were always rival gangs and criminals snooping around and hoping to take out the infamous Penguin. However, between Edward's meticulousness and Victor Zsasz being appointed as Oswald's personal bodyguard, they never made it far.

Even the lamebrains at the Gotham City Police Department had settled into complacency. Detective James Gordon was certainly not pleased with the circumstances but had learned to accept it. On one occasion, Oswald caught Jim referring to him as an 'old friend' when reminiscing with a colleague. They were far from that but the sentiment was certainly appreciated. He was still rather fond of Jim and still believed that they could be friends in spite of everything. He was sentimental like that.

Sentimentality was certainly a trait he inherited from his parents. For instance: Oswald had been gifted an English Bulldog puppy at a charity event. He had been hesitant to accept the gift at first but his wrinkly little nose and the purple bowtie made Oswald's heart melt. He named him Edward, much to Ed the Human's dismay. Oswald used it as an excuse to walk around the manor and freely say _“I love you, Edward. You're so perfect, Edward. I would do anything for you, Edward.”_

“If you loved the dog so much, you wouldn't feed him table scraps.” Ed rolled his eyes

“Only the finest cuts of steak for my little Edward! That's right! _Anything_ for my good booooy.” Oswald sang

Victor Zsasz couldn't help but find it endearing if not a little sad. It was obvious, to him at least, that the Penguin was head-over-heels for his nerdy Chief of Staff. His heart would clench a little every time he overheard the Big Boss confess his love to the smaller, chubbier, and less charmingly flamboyant proxy. Olga was much the same. Though, she was less fond of Edward the Human. His role in breaking Oswald's heart months prior had left her feeling ire at the mere mention of him.

Oswald and Ed were touring the Falcone Home and School for Orphans. They used the facade of being the Mayor welcoming the newest addition to the city as a way of checking in and spying on Sofia Falcone- the daughter of Carmine “The Roman” Falcone. Zsasz had personally delivered the message from the elder Falcone to keep a close eye on her and make sure she didn't start some fool's errand turf war.

While at the orphanage, Oswald met a young boy named Martin whom he had grown rather fond of during their short visit. Apparently, the boy had tried to set a bully's bags on fire. Oswald intervened and made an effort to teach him how to properly get revenge. The boy took to the instruction like an eager-to-please student. It reminded Oswald of Ed, in a way.

“You aren't saying you want to adopt the boy, are you?” Ed groaned as they made their way to the limo

“And what if I did?” Oswald smiled mischievously, “It might be good for my image.”

“You already have a puppy.”

“Well, I have been known to collect strays.” Oswald teased

“Next you'll tell me you want to adopt a rookery of penguins.”

Oswald's eyes lit up, “Can I, Eddie?”

“No.”

“Aww... I was hoping I was gonna be an uncle.” Zsasz pouted

“To who- Martin or the penguins?” Oswald chuckled

“Why not both?” Zsasz smiled

“Then both it shall be!” the smaller man exclaimed

“Aaaaand, I'm being ignored.” Edward rolled his eyes and turned to open the door for Oswald when his phone rang. He pushed his glasses up in annoyance when he saw the name on the caller ID.

“Detective James Gordon.” Ed's voice dripped with venomous sarcasm, “It's not very often that I get a call from you.”

“Hello, Ed” his fake smile could be felt through the phone, “Would you be willing to come to the precinct?”

“Why?” he raised an eyebrow

“There's a case... Lucius thinks it might be right up your alley and was wondering if you would be willing to be a consultant.”

“Wow. The GCPD must really be desperate if you are coming to me for help.” Edward laughed

Jim sighed, “Can you come by today or not?”

Apparently, there was a serial killer in Gotham City. Which was, admittedly, pretty par for the course. Oswald insisted that Edward humor the GCPD and consult on the case. If anything, it would just be fodder for the papers when it was revealed to the public that their beloved Mayor's Chief of Staff helped capture the dastardly criminal.

There were nine victims in total. They were different genders, race, age, social class... there seemed to be no real pattern connecting them. The killer appeared to be choosing their victims at random and then strangling them at the same time every night. Some died in their homes. Some on sidewalks. Some even on busy streets with crowds. The forensic report showed that all of the victims died around 7:48 in the evening.

“What did Miss Thompkins find with their autopsies?” Ed asked

“Not much. Based on the position of the bruises, the killer was average height. Each victim was approached and strangled from the front. We found chips of red fingernail polish left in one of the scratches on a victim's neck. No DNA though.” Lucius finished pinning the pictures of all of the victims up on a board in his office, "None of the victims knew each other and they are all spread apart. There doesn't seem to be any overlap to their daily routines either."

"We figured if anyone could get inside the head of a Sociopath, it'd be you." Harvey sneered

Edward gritted his teeth. Harvey always knew exactly what to say to get under his skin. Edward swallowed and decided to ignore the insult, "There doesn't seem to be any correlation with the victims"

“So this killer doesn't have a pattern?” Harvey asked

“Don't be stupid. There's always a pattern.” Edward rolled his eyes and stared at the map of Gotham currently marked with the locations of each murder. They were scattered all over. No groupings or trails. There really _wasn't_ a pattern. Aside from there being _no_ pattern.

“I know that! But the only thing connecting these poor schmucks is that they were all strangled at 7:48 PM.”

“19:48 military time, if that makes a difference.” Jim was attempting to offer whatever insight he could. He figured it might be an inconsequential detail but then he noticed how wide Ed's eyes had gotten, “Ed?”

Edward stared at the names of the victims hung up on the wall. In the order of their deaths, there was Walter, Alma, Thomas, Enid, Rachel, Brandon, Uriah, Robert, and Yvonne. “W... A... T... E....” Ed's voiced trailed as he continued to read the first initial of each name

“Waterbury.” Lucius, realizing what Ed was spelling, had said the name out loud to the rest of the room

“1948 Waterbury.” Ed tried to conceal his panic, “I-it's an address.”

“You're sure?” Jim asked

“Yes. Positive.”

* * *

The following day, Edward hadn't wanted to go back to the precinct. A nagging dread thrumming in his ears. But, Oswald insisted. And he would do anything for Oswald... even deal with this. Though, he did admit he was curious. The killer was obviously leaving a message for him. And Edward wasn't one to leave a puzzle unsolved.

“The house was abandoned. Harv and I staked it out all night but no one went in or out.” Jim informed the room

“I don't think it has to do with the location itself but with the people that used to live there.” Lucius spoke. He clicked the button on the projector and revealed the cover of an old newspaper. The words _Man Strangles Wife On Waterbury Street_ appeared in big bold letters

“Oh yeah! I remember hearing about this case. Guy was a real asshole. Abused his wife and kid.” Harvey recalled

“Yes. Richard and Pamela Nashton. Apparently their son, Edward Nashton, witnessed the murder and testified against him in court.” Lucius scrolled through the remaining slides as he spoke. There were photos of a red-headed woman battered and strangled on her bedroom floor, dozens of photos of a brunette boy with crooked glasses covered in bruises, and Mr. Nashton's mugshot.

“Poor kid.” Jim said, “Where is he now?”

“Not sure. After the death of his mother, he was sent away to live with a family member. But they haven't heard from him since he graduated high school. There's no record of him living in Gotham anymore.” Lucius told them

“What about Richard Nashton?” Jim asked

“He's locked up in Blackgate. Life sentence without parole.”

“Edward Nashton might be our killer. He fits the profile. Caucasian male in his late twenties. History of domestic abuse and trauma." Harvey explained

"What do you think, Ed? You've been awfully quiet this whole time.” Lucius turned his attention to Edward who was currently leaning up against the wall and trying to not let the truth of everything Harvey was saying get to him.

“Hm? Me? Well... You could always ask Richard Nashton. Maybe he knows something.” Ed's gaze wandered around the room. He knew he hadn't committed the murders. The M.O. was also wrong. Richard Nashton had used a belt to strangle his wife. The red nail polish indicated that their killer preferred using their bare hands. But, the address couldn't possibly have been a coincidence...

“Alright. I'll make a few phone calls.” Jim turned the light on and made a point to stare at Ed. Something about his demeanor didn't sit right with him, “Thanks for your help, Ed. We've got it from here.”

“I'm coming with you.” Ed spoke suddenly

“What was that?”

“To Blackgate... I'm... curious.” Ed nervously adjusted his glasses

“Alright... Just don't make me regret letting you tag along.”

If only Jim knew that he wouldn't be the one with regrets that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1948 is the year that the Riddler was introduced in the Batman comics. Waterbury is also the town Edward Nygma is from in the comics so I just combined them to make the street address :B


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for posting this so late! I had to go out of town for work and all of my notes on his story were scrawled out on a bunch of crumpled notebook paper and hotel napkins when I got home.  
> I'm also still writing "The Diary of Millie Jane Van Dahl" at the same time as this soooo... ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> This also chapter ended up being a LOT longer (by about 4k words) so I split it into two. I haven't quite finished the finale.
> 
> I will hopefully post the final chapter this weekend! Just need to polish the last of it.

“You know you don't have to come, Oswald.”

“And give up the opportunity to see the look on Jim Gordon's face when you solve his case for him? Not a chance.”

This was only a partial lie. In truth, Oswald's primary consideration was Edward's well-being. It had taken some coaxing- and Oswald was fairly certain he had annoyed his friend to no end- but he finally got Edward to divulge information about the case he had been asked to consult on. However, when describing the details of the case, Edward became _distressed_. He kept bouncing back and forth between talking too quickly and barely at all. He even dissociated for several minutes in the middle of their conversation. He had just stopped talking and then stared at a single point on the floor as if the whole world had dissolved and he was transported somewhere else.

Oswald suspected that something about this case reminded Ed of the death of his beloved Kristen Kringle and of his reliving of that trauma via an all too vivid hallucination. He dreaded what that would mean. It made him concerned for Ed's health and, quite frankly, for his reputation as his Chief of Staff. Ed's participation was meant to embarrass the GCPD not cause a city-wide panic if Ed relapsed and killed someone! Gotham reporters were ravenous. They could smell blood in the water and, if given the opportunity, would feast on both of them. They would no doubt use their shared history with Arkham Asylum as a way to shatter the people of Gotham's confidence in his Mayorship.

He certainly wouldn't allow for that. His lofty political position was not only something that he valued but it was also something he had earned. He _deserved_ to be Mayor. Ed had shown him that.

The year spent running the city as both Mayor Cobblepot and King of Gotham had reinforced his compulsion for control. Not to say that he wasn't before but he had become downright selfish. He acknowledged Edward's declining mental health but was unwilling to relinquish treatment to any hospital- in or outside of Gotham. Instead, he handpicked various professionals to work closely with Ed and report any odd occurrences or changes in his behaviour. However, it didn't take Ed long to discover that his assistants had degrees in psychotherapy and were planted there by Oswald. He promptly fired them and scolded Oswald for his poorly executed attempt to control him.

Oswald coming along to keep an eye on Edward on his trip to Blackgate was not any different. Not knowing what was wrong or how he could help compelled him to be annoyingly clingy.

“Oswald.” Ed's voice was raised. He had been saying his friend's name a few times but had been unnoticed. When he finally got the bird's attention, he seemed visibly tense, “What's wrong?”

“Hm?” Oswald hadn't noticed that his good leg had been bouncing. Making him appear as a nervous wreck. He grabbed his leg, forcing it to stop shaking, and sighed. He silently scolded himself for wearing his emotions so openly, “Sorry. I was just lost in thought. What about you?”

“I'm fine.” Ed lied

“Right...” Oswald cleared his throat, “You just seemed upset when telling me about this case-”

“-I said I'm fine, Oswald.” Edward's tone was cold. Oswald envied Ed's ability to shut off his emotions like that. Though, he knew better than to believe the stone-faced facade.

Oswald sighed, “Ed, you are my dearest friend. If you won't tell me what's bothering you how can I possibly help-”

Edward groaned and turned his body away from Oswald. His forehead firmly pressed up against the tinted glass of the window.

“You don't need to push me away.” Oswald huffed

“I know that.” Ed swallowed thickly

“So..." he pursed his lips, "Why are you?”

Edward searched the files of his brain for an answer. He had no reason to keep more secrets from Oswald. In fact, it was likely very important that Oswald be informed of the fact that his Chief of Staff was... compromised. That someone who knew of his past was toying with him. He could feel the fringes of his mind fraying like loose ribbons on a spool. But, he needed more information. He didn't want to cause the mayor any additional stress when it was likely that he could have this all solved and figured out without Oswald having to know.

“This is just something that I have to deal with on my own. Preferably without you smothering me.”

“Wha? I am _not_ smothering you!” Oswald squawked

“Yes. You. Are.” Ed glared, “You've been keeping tabs on me ever since I ditched you at dinner. You can't stand the idea of my mental state leaking to the public and ruining your image.”

“That's not true!”

“Don't lie to me.” Edward grit his teeth

“ _Fine_. I admit I am a little worried. But, that concern is a drop in the bucket compared to my worry for _you_. For your well being and your safety. You are so important to me and I care about-”

-There was a loud crash. Something was stinging at the edges of Oswald's eyes. He blinked it away and saw that one of the whiskey decanters from the bar nook had been thrown.

Impulsivity was not a trait Edward claimed to have. There were moments- such as when he stabbed Officer Dougherty- when his mind would go blank and his body reacted without his say so. Often violently. He hadn't even realized he'd picked up the glass container and thrown it until it had already left his fingertips. The alcohol pooled on the leather seat and was dripping into the floorboards. Some of it had splashed on Oswald's face.

And, for a moment... Oswald reminded him of his mother.

Small and wounded. A look of panic as he sat in his corner by the door. Edward blinked because he wasn't entirely sure if what he was seeing was correct. Oswald shouldn't look that... Oswald should be angry. Fuming. Screeching obscenities like he normally would. But... he wasn't. He was just staring at him. Pity tugging at the corners of his stormy eyes.

Edward pulled out a handkerchief from his jacket pocket and leaned over to wipe the whiskey from Oswald's face. His heart ached when Oswald flinched. He snatched the green cloth away after a moment of intense staring. The gesture was aggressive but Oswald's face was still a blend of concern and panic. Not anger. Edward's fingers lightly caressed Oswald's jawline. He wanted to make sure that there was no glass.

“Ed?” Oswald shivered under the almost intimate touch

“I'm sorry... I don't know why I threw it.” Edward pulled his hand away when he sensed how the sudden close proximity made Oswald uncomfortable. He quietly scolded himself for being awkward and not respecting the Penguin's personal space. It was a habit he thought he had broken.

“I would certainly be a hypocrite if I scolded _you_ for a tantrum.” Oswald chuckled. Edward was still much too close and it was making his heart race. Hesitantly, he reached his hand out to hold Edward's face. His skin was cold. He could feel his pulse like rampant hooves under his fingers. Edward was clearly riding out a panic attack. Oswald felt bile and guilt crawl up his throat.

He debated calling the whole thing off. He knew Edward was curious about this case and he was loathed to leave a puzzle unsolved. Watching the enamel walls around his friend slowly crack and shatter wasn't worth it though. Embarrassing Jim Gordon and the GCPD wasn't worth the cost of Edward's sanity. He sighed and removed his hand from Ed's cheek.

“We can continue this conversation when you're ready.” he smiled

“What if I'm never ready?” Edward frowned and stared out the window at the looming shadow of Blackgate Bridge.

“That's alright too.”

To say that Oswald's heart wasn't broken by the prospect that Edward didn't trust him enough to talk to him was a lie. Which didn't seem fair. Oswald clenched his fists so tightly that, had he not been wearing gloves, his fingernails would have broken skin.

Their arrival at Blackgate was completely devoid of fanfare. Oswald had wanted to keep the press in the dark about Edward's involvement until they were closer to solving it. And, of course, when Oswald knew that Edward was alright. They were both greeted by Detective Jim Gordon and Harvey Bullock. When they entered the facility, Lucius Fox was there to present them with their visitor badges.

One by one, they filed into the interrogation room. Oswald, Edward, and Lucius positioned themselves outside the one-way mirror. Edward doesn't realize that he's holding his breath.

“You alright, Ed?” Lucius asks

“Peachy.” Edward's eyes are glued to the door in the grey room on the other side of the mirror. In just a few moments, that heavy steel door would open and Richard Nashton would be escorted in. He wasn't entirely sure what his reaction was going to be upon seeing him.

He felt something warm on his knee. He looked down and saw Oswald's hand give him a light squeeze. It was a simple gesture but one that kept him grounded. He exhaled, recited as many numbers of Pi that he could remember, and then turned his attention back to the interrogation with a clearer head.

The man's skin hung loosely around his face. It resembled a yellowed leather bag. Aged from years of labor-intensive work and cigarettes. He was in his fifties. Likely suffering from a damaged liver and kidneys due to alcoholism. He had a painful smoker's cough. His voice was raspy but still had that razor edge you would expect of a former military man. Jim and Harvey made their way into the room after he had been properly handcuffed to the table.

Jim and Harvey went through the motions of explaining their reasons for being there, confirming with the other guards and security footage that he had still been locked away during the murders, and asking him questions regarding why someone might leave the message that they did. Mr. Nashton just shrugged and answered their questions to the best of his ability.

“Do you get many visitors, Mr. Nashton?” Harvey asked

“Nope. Family decided to let me rot in here alone.”

“It says here that a few months ago you received a visitor. A woman?” Jim raised an eyebrow

“Yeah. She just showed up one day and asked me a bunch of dumb questions. I assumed she worked with the police or was just another weirdo trying to sell a book.” he scoffed, “She was a real bitch though. Sharp features. Really stern-looking. Blonde hair.”

“Do you remember her name?” Jim's eyes widened. The name on all of the visitor's forms had been an alias and the security footage had been conveniently wiped. The investigation team had assumed that someone had paid off the guards.

Mr. Nashton scratched at his chin. The look on Jim's face made him curious and he savored the knowledge that he knew something that the younger man did not. He smirked, “Yeah. Started with a K. Kaitlyn? Eh... Kat... Kathy?”

“Was her name Kathryn, by chance?” Jim asked

_Who was Kathryn?_ Ed thought. He didn't recall anyone named Kathryn from the case file Lucius had given him.

“Yeah. That was her name.” Mr. Nashton sneered

Jim turned around and stared in the direction he assumed Oswald was sitting behind the mirror.

“Kurva életbe...” Oswald cursed in Hungarian. A habit usually reserved for when he was pacing around in his office complaining about Gotham's underworld.

“What's wrong?” Edward asked

“Do you and Jim know what's going on?” Lucius asked

Oswald opened his mouth to speak but then noticed the cameras in the room, “Later.” He nodded to the camera. Ed and Lucius understood.

“You got other people with ya?” Richard asked, turning his attention to the mirror

“I do. But that doesn't really concern you, Mr. Nashton-”

“-Mr. Nygma wouldn't happen to be out there, would he?” He smiled. His teeth were dirty. Stained from cigarettes and cheap bourbon.

“Excuse me?” Jim asked

“That's your name now, isn't it?” He called out to Ed through the one-way mirror, “You didn't think I'd recognize ya in the papers. But I did.”

“Ed... You know this man?” Lucius asked.

All of the color had drained from Ed's face. Oswald felt his stomach knot. He had never seen his friend so afraid. He didn't know what was going on but he suddenly felt the urge to put a bullet in that man's head.

“Some part of you wanted me to recognize ya though. Isn't that right?” 

“Mr. Nashton.” Jim scolded, “I'm gonna have to ask you to stop-”

“How long have you been fuckin' that mayor of yours?”

“Hey now!” Harvey yelled, “Let's get back to the task at hand. Alright?”

“Just speakin' the truth.” Mr. Nashton laughed, “He didn't earn that position on his own unless he was cheatin'. Kid was always as dumb as a sack of bricks.”

“Ed?” Oswald asked. Jim, Harvey, and Lucius said nothing as they were completely stunned into silence.

“I have to go.” Ed started to walk out the door

“Boy!” the man yelled.

“Yes, sir.” His response had been involuntary. He knew the man couldn't hear anything he said but the words still fell from his mouth. It was instinct. Habit. He spun around on his heels and faced the window again.

“Tell me... which do you hate most when you look in the mirror...” Richard Nashton's smile was eerily familiar to all of them, “The fact that you look just like your mother or that you have my eyes?”

Ed ran. The haunting sound of his father's maniacal laughter following him down the hallway and to the small washroom. He was grateful that all he had for breakfast that morning was an apple as he threw up the contents of his stomach.

His ears were ringing so loudly he barely noticed that someone- most likely Oswald- was banging on the door. He wasn't ready to open it just yet. Instead, he dared to look at his reflection... It was true. He did look a lot like his mother. Except his eyes were these sinister cauldrons. Not pausing to think things through, he smashed the glass with his fist. Another impulsive action. He winced at the pain but he was thankful that he could at least feel _something_.

The knocking was grinding on his nerves so he flung open the door. Oswald's eyes widened at the sight.

“You're bleeding.” he said

“How observant of you.” Ed rolled his eyes His emotions completely disconnected at the moment.

They made their way back to the interrogation room. Richard Nashton was already back in his cell but the sounds of his sadistic laughter seemed to linger. It was in the ringing of the pipes in the walls and the rhythmic rocking of the ceiling fan. It was in the air that Edward was reluctant to fill his lungs with. Edward clenched his fist and tried to focus on the pain in his hand rather than the dizzying panic he felt in his stomach.

Lucius brought a first aid kit which Oswald was quick to snatch out of his hands- determined to not let _anyone_ else touch his friend. That was a luxury reserved for him. Lucius nodded and then walked away to give them a moment of privacy while he discussed things with the rest of the team.

“Oswald... I can take care of it.” Ed tried to pry his hand away from his friend's grasp.

“You're always fussing over me.” Oswald's voice was warm. Comforting, “Let me do this for you.”

“Fine.” He relented. _Why the hell is Oswald being so nice?_ Ed thought.

After his tantrum in the limo, Oswald should have shot him by now. After showing how weak he was when confronted by his father he should at least be forced to resign. Hell, why were they even still friends? His friend's actions were anything but pragmatic. It didn't make sense.

Edward thought back to that time he had shut the door on Oswald after his release from Arkham. How he was weak and naive and surely doomed to die if he encountered the wrong person in an alley. Shunning his friend had been... logical. Devoid of any sentimentality. And he _hated_ himself for it. Maybe this was why Oswald was better at this sort of thing? Sure, he was brazen and made rash decisions, but The Penguin didn't hide from his emotions like a wounded animal which made them easier to navigate. He made it seem almost effortless when he dealt with sudden changes to the course of events. Oswald was methodical but he was also resilient and an excellent problem-solver.

“Edward... about earlier, in the limo... I'm sorry. I had no idea-”

“-Stop. You don't need to apologize.”

“I do.” he sighed, “Do you even remember how long it took me to talk about my mother's death? Or even my father's? Anytime you asked me about them, I would just break down crying and could never find the words... I know it's not exactly the same. You've been living with this for so much longer and you were so young- I can't even imagine what that must have been like. But, I understand.”

“I still shouldn't have thrown the decanter.”

“No. But I forgive you.”

Edward opened his mouth to protest but was interrupted by Jim. The detective, realizing the invasiveness of his approach gave an apologetic look and cleared his throat.

“How are you holding up?” Jim asked, handing Edward an icepack

“Right as rain.” Ed lied

“Right.” Jim tried to look everywhere in the room but at the man in front of him, “Can I ask why you didn't say anything before?”

“I didn't want to.” Edward looked up at the detective and then sighed, “You once asked me how I became... _what I became..._ There's your answer.”

Jim couldn't help but feel his heart break a little. Edward had been his friend once. He had been reluctant at first but, after giving the friendship a chance, he found that he genuinely cared for him. And, after seeing what he saw today, everything clicked into place. The way Ed craved validation from his peers. His social awkwardness. His reactions to Harvey's namecalling. How he burst into tears and made himself sick during his confession... How easily he just accepted that he was the villain of his own story.

“You served your time in Arkham, Ed. That man in there is going to stay locked up in a cell for the rest of his life.”

“Even so... someone connected to him is trying to manipulate me. But why?” Ed pulled at his hair, “And who the hell is Kathryn?”

“Perhaps, we should discuss this in a more private setting? With fewer ears that can overhear us.” Oswald suggested. He gave Jim a look that communicated he knew more about what was going on than he had previously led everyone to believe. Jim nodded.

Back at the mansion, Jim told them about the Court of Owls and how he was working undercover in order to expose them and their plans to control Gotham. Edward recalled a conversation he overheard between a woman named Kathryn- the _same_ Kathryn- and _Oswald_ at the Founder's Dinner. Oswald, since becoming Mayor, had been contacted by Kathryn and the Court on a few occasions. Details of such meetings or even that they happened at all had been secreted away. Edward had been completely in the dark.

“But what do they want with me?” Ed asked

“I can probably find out... I just need a little bit of time.” Jim sighed. Time wasn't a commodity they had in great supply, “What about you, Oswald? Do you have any other connections to them besides Kathryn?”

“No. They made their presence known to me and that was it. I figured it was wiser to keep a safe distance.” he confessed. Then he smirked, “Though, you are not a wise man. Are you, Jim?”

“I guess not.” he rolled his eyes, “I'll let you know if I find anything. In the meantime, it might be best to stay here at the mansion. Maybe hire some extra bodyguards for the night.”

They did. Oswald was determined to continue on with their evening as if everything were normal. He just wanted his routine back. He wanted control. But, Edward wouldn't eat dinner. He was too busy pacing and mumbling under his breath.

“Unbelievable... I have spies all over the city... worthless! Completely worthless.” He slammed his fist on the table, “And _you._ You knew about it.” He glared at Oswald.

“I did.” he sighed.

“What else are you keeping from me?!” Ed yelled. He was unsure if Oswald had any other secrets hidden away from him. Ironic, really, that he would be so angry at Oswald for withholding information about The Court of Owls when hours prior he was unwilling to confess that his connection to Richard and Pamela Nashton was anything more than morbid curiosity. His own insecurities about his friendship with Oswald was overriding everything.

“N-nothing...” Oswald stammered, “I'm not keeping anything from you.”

“You're a terrible liar, Oswald.” he scoffed, “If you can't trust me then why keep me here?”

“Because you're my friend! And I do trust you!”

“Then stop LYING to me!”

“FINE!” He screamed. His throat hurt.

Ed breathed in a few haggard breaths before continuing, “What else have you been keeping for me?”

“I...” tears suddenly fell from his eyes. He couldn't stop them now. He had prepared a whole speech for this, but that time had already come and gone, “I don't know how to tell you this...”

“Are you sick?” Ed asked. Fear suddenly gripping him from all sides. He knew a heart disease ran in Oswald's family and now he assumed the worst.

“What? No!” Oswald shook his head, “That's not it at all.”

“Then... what?” Edward was confused

“I... I cannot be bought... but I can be stolen with one glace.” He wiped his tears away as best he could, “I am worthless to one but priceless to two. What am I?” Oswald could never forget that riddle. It meant so much to him- in more ways than one.

“Love. What's that got to do-” Ed stopped. Cogs spinning in his mind. Realization dawning, “-Oh.” Edward shifted his weight nervously, “You... have feelings for someone?”

“Yes.” Oswald confessed, hopeful that Edward had deciphered his reasons for using the riddle.

“Wow.”

“Wow? That's all you have to say?” Oswald's nostrils flared

“Is it Jim?”

“NO!” Oswald croaked. His flabbergasted expression bordering on comical.

“I mean, I know you had a crush on him before-”

“Absolutely not. I've never had a crush on Jim Gordon.” He pouted. Edward raised an eyebrow at him and gave him a knowing stare.

“Alright. Fine! I _might_ have had a crush on Jim but that was a long time ago.” he sighed, “No. I'm not in love with Jim.”

“Is it Victor Zsasz?”

“Oh my _God_ , Edward! You are so dense!” Oswald threw his hands up in the air

“Then... who?” Edward was scanning his own memory bank for anyone who could possibly of gotten Oswald's attention. Was it the new Secretary? The limo driver? The cute delivery man who brought them their Chinese take-out on the weekends?

“I'm in _love_ with _you_ , Ed!” he growled

Edward gasped. He blinked several times and searched Oswald's face for a punchline that never came, “You're serious?”

“No. I'm playing the world's cruelest joke on my Chief of Staff- _Yes_ , I'm serious!” Oswald flailed wildly at the last part

“Why?”

“Wha- what the hell do you mean _why?_ ” he scoffed.

“Why me?” Edward's inability to grasp the concept made Oswald feel lightheaded. He was a genius but also incredibly stupid.

Oswald collected himself for a moment. He sighed, “The only person who had been there for me was my mother. She was the only one who made me feel wanted and appreciated... who made me feel loved. Until you. You managed to fill that void in my heart that she left behind. And then you never stopped.” he chuckled, tears still in his eyes, “I'd been meaning to tell you for a while.”

“A while? How long have you felt this way?” Edward's eyes glittered... though, not for the reasons Oswald was hoping for.

“Since that night Butch almost killed you. And possibly even before that.” he sighed, “If I'm honest with myself, I think I might have even started loving you as far back as your apartment.”

“Why didn't you tell me before?” Ed sounded mildly irritated

“I had planned to... that night at dinner. But then you said you would never allow yourself to fall in love again. So, I gave up any hope I had and just... locked it away.”

“Did you tell anyone?” Ed asked

“Why does that matter?”

“Oswald, this is important.” Ed gripped the smaller man by his shoulders, “Does _anyone_ else know?”

“I told Olga. Though, I don't think she understood me.”

“Let's assume she did. Is it possible that she told anyone else?”

“I suppose so...” he blushed, "I saw her and Barbara talking. And I'm pretty sure Zsasz knows... and Gabe... and-"

“-That's it! It has to be! _That's_ why the Court of Owls is targeting me.” Ed clapped his hands together, delighted to have solved this particular puzzle

“What?” Oswald was getting emotional whiplash from their conversation

“Because, if what you're saying is true, then I am your greatest weakness. If they destroy me, they destroy you.”

Oswald blinked away his confusion. Why was Ed so damn calm? He had just confessed that he was in love with him! Why was he more interested in this damn mystery? Wasn't Oswald's feeling towards him just a tad more important than whatever the Court of Owls was planning... At least, right this second?

“Why not just kill me if I'm who they're after? I've spotted their assassins in the crowds.”

“Because they deal in the art of subterfuge. If their goal is to get you out of office, it makes sense to start with me. Once I'm out of the picture, your empire could unravel. From there, they can do any number of things- get you impeached, run you out of town, reveal any below-board dealings and start a war-”

“I get the point.” Oswald held up a hand to silence the taller man, “We need to call Jim.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why?”

“You heard him. He's working undercover. They likely already know that and are keeping close tabs on him. The less we interact with him, the better.”

“Alright... So, are you suggesting that we handle this ourselves?” Oswald didn't even wait for a response before he rolled his eyes, “Of course you are. This is all just one big puzzle for you, isn't it?”

“Isn't it exciting?” Edward grinned

“Earlier today you were a nervous wreck and now you look like a schoolboy on a field trip.” he pouted. He wanted to talk more about his unrequited love for his best friend but that was clearly going to have to wait, “Fine then. What do you propose we do?”

Edward's gaze narrowed. His vision blurring. He had to shake his head to keep his thoughts from drifting away from him, “This was all a convoluted trap to lure me in. Perhaps, I should take the bait and pay my old home a visit.”

“Jim already scouted the place. He said it was abandoned.”

“Yes. But _Jim_ doesn't pay attention to all of the details, now does he?”

“And _you_ do?” Oswald scoffed. How many times had he held onto a hug longer than was necessary? How many times had he carelessly touched him, caressed a shoulder or thigh, or stared at his lips when he spoke? His love had been obvious to everyone but Edward. Clearly, _those_ details didn't matter.

Seemingly reading Oswald's mind, Edward wordlessly turned to gather his things. He knew what Oswald meant. He'd been blind. It was uncomfortably apparent to him now. And, right now, he didn't want to get caught up in a staring match. Not that he particularly minded staring at the mayor. He just... couldn't. That was a conversation for later... when they weren't in danger. When he could give Oswald the attention he needed and deserved.

His eyes widened when he saw Oswald pocket his pistol, “It's too dangerous. You need to stay here.”

“You're joking, right?” Oswald scoffed, “I have been in far worse situations.”

“Yes. But you're the mayor now. Think of the... uh..” he adjusted his glasses, “...people.”

“To _Hell_ with the people of Gotham!” he shouted, “I am _not_ letting you go to that god awful place alone.”

“Don't argue with me, Oswald!” Edward's calm veneer dissolved. His panic bubbling to the surface, “I can't... I _don't know_ how I'll respond if I lost you. Please... just stay home.” He smiled brightly, “I'll be back before you know it.”

“Preferably not in a box. If that can be arranged?” Oswald returned the smile with a shake of his head.

“The cost of making only the maker knows. I lack value if I am bought but I am sometimes traded. What am I?”

“A promise.” Oswald sighed. The man was a liar. The wetness of his eyes gave it away. Ed wasn't sure of his own survival which was why he insisted Oswald stay behind. It wasn't worth arguing about.

Edward gave him a reassuring nod, pocketed a gun and his knife and left the mansion without another word. Oswald watched as Edward got into his car and drove away, ignored Edward's request, and made a phone call.


	3. Chapter 3

The drive to 1948 Waterbury Street wasn't a long one. Unsurprisingly, the roads on the outskirts of the Burnley District hadn't changed much in nearly twenty years. They were still full of holes and deep cracks that Edward, in his youth, often imagined opened directly to Hell. He often prayed that it would swallow him one day. At least then he wouldn't have to go back home. He always figured demons would make better friends anyway.

He parked down the street and made sure to keep his lights off. If anyone was there, he didn't want to alert them to his presence. Though, if what Jim and Oswald said about The Court was true, they already knew he was there. After all, they had been expecting him to pay a visit ever since they left their message.

The house was definitely abandoned. The leaded paint peeled off like birch bark. The roof of the old dog house was caved in. Looking at it makes the scars on Ed's arm itch. Edward had asked for a dog. Other children in the neighborhood had dogs and all of the young adventurers in his favorite stories had man's best friend at their side. However, his father brought home an old fighting dog. Not at all suitable for a young child being in the house. Edward had tried petting him one day only to end up with several stitches on his arm. Dogs, understandably, made him nervous after that. The only exception, of course, was the spoiled English Bulldog whom he shared a name with back at the Mayor's mansion.

_“I love you, Edward. You're so perfect, Edward. I would do anything for you, Edward.”_ echoed pleasantly in his ears. Listening to it now made him wonder if all of that was actually meant for him and not necessarily the dog. In hindsight, he wondered if Oswald's desire to collect the affections of so many others wasn't just an attempt to fill the hole that Edward had unintentionally made. He secured his knife on his belt and sighed. The outcome of tonight was still a mess of unknowns.

As Edward approached the house, the years of decay became more apparent. It had always been a run-down slum house but two decades of perpetual rain, graffiti, and neglect had done it no favors. The wood panels that once blocked the front door had been removed and piled up on the porch by Jim and Harvey during their investigation the previous night. Going through the front door was certainly risky but he hoped the cloak of the darkened night and the broken streetlight out front had masked his entrance.

He stalked through the house as quietly as he could. The furniture had been thrown out a long time ago but their imprints still marred the carpet. Even in the darkness, He could still see the grimy residue from his father's recliner. The stains around the coffee table. The circular burns from haphazardly flicked cigarette butts.

Edward braced himself to travel upstairs. It was the one place he hadn't fully prepared himself for.

The door to the left had been his old bedroom. Bookshelves full of comics, riddle and puzzle books, eclectic history books... And, to the right of the stairs, was his parent's bedroom. The place where he saw his father strangle his mother.

He opened the door to his old bedroom first. It was much smaller than he remembered. The green shag carpet and ugly geometric wallpaper were just as he had left it. Albeit stained with age. The door to his closet was broken off the hinges. His room was a safe house but his closet was a panic room. He often hid snacks and comic books inside in case he ever needed to lock himself inside the 2 foot by 3-foot fortress. He had learned how to take up as little space as possible when he slept which made sleeping on the closet floor bearable. He ducked his head and entered the small room. He could barely make out the writing and drawings he had scrawled all over the walls. It was mostly riddles, interesting words he had learned, and drawings of happy families. He wondered if Jim or Harvey saw them and if they pitied him.

“ _Oswald pities us.”_

The invasive voice rattled in his head. It's been a while since he's had to deal with his hallucinations. Or, at least, long enough since he's acknowledged them. He tries to ignore the voice that sounds too much like his own. When the voice gets too loud, he instead tries to drown it out.

_No, Oswald knows us. Oswald sees us. Oswald doesn't care about the weak person we used to be. Oswald made us stronger... Oswald loves us._

He's not sure why he's referring to himself in the plural. Maybe that ludicrous DID diagnosis from Arkham had been accurate.

Edward often played the role of caretaker in their... relationship. Whatever that was. However, Oswald had his fair share of habits that Edward would go so far as to call _motherly._ Which was not something anyone would have expected from the King of Gotham. But, he truly was Gertrud's son. It was a behaviour that Edward secretly craved. His own mother had been the opposite. Pamela suffered from postpartum depression after Ed was born. Coupled with the abuse she endured from her husband, She never fully recovered and she never felt a strong connection to her son. She didn't hate him. But she was indifferent to his existence. Edward tried to gain her affections and was clingy- much like how he was with Kristen.

Oswald hadn't been too receptive to Ed's advances in the beginning. He was still navigating the criminal underground as Fish Mooney's umbrella boy at the time. And, when he had woken up in Ed's apartment, he had not yet seen Edward as an ally. But, it hadn't taken Oswald long to throw himself with equal vigor at his friend's side and offer him a level of affection and care reserved only for him.

Anytime Edward had a manic episode or had a panic attack Oswald had been there as an anchor.

“Thank you, Oswald.” he would say

“Of course. What are friend's for?” Oswald would always respond

Demons really did make good friends after all.

He stepped out of the small closet and took another look around his old bedroom. He could see the imprint in the carpet where his bed used to be. A memory crawled out from the depths of his brain...

“Mom?” Edward stirred. He had felt his mother kiss his forehead. He'd always been a light sleeper.

“Shh... Go back to sleep, honey.” His mother's eyes were cold behind her thick-rimmed glasses. She had a scarf around her head and something that looked like the corner of a train ticket sticking out of her pocket.

“Where are you going?” he asked

“Oh, I'm not going anywhere. I was... um... just checking up on you.” Her voice was pitched a little too high. Too cheery for the time of night.

Edward grabbed at her arm, “You can't leave me here.”

She breathed in deeply and then continued her lie, “I already said I'm not going anywhere, sweetie.”

“Stop LYING to me! You always lie!” he cried

“Eddie... you are so important to me. You know I care about you very much but...” she paled as Edward glared at her.

Edward knew she was still lying. His eyes were like obsidian spheres. Volcanic glass that was razor sharp. She couldn't bear to look at them. They reminded her too much of her husband.

“Edward, let go of my arm.” She pulled but the child had a strong grip

“You can't leave, mom... please don't go.” he sobbed

“Shut up! You're going to wake him up.”

On queue, Richard Nashton stumbled through the doorway.

“The Hell are you two doing?”

“Nothing... Edward just had a nightmare. That's all.” his mother lied. Again.

He hated being lied to. He hated people leaving. He hated getting attached and obsessive over people. He'd done it most of his life. First, it was his mother. He rarely left her side. It made sense why she would want to leave without him. Logically speaking. He would have just reminded her of everything she feared. Then there was Kristen Kringle. Then Jim Gordon. Now... Oswald.

Ed had left before discussing Oswald's feelings towards him. He knew he needed to deal with The Court and whatever they had planned before he could. He also didn't want to give Oswald any false hope before walking into the death trap that was his abandoned childhood home. Better than Oswald not be burdened with a great big _'What if?'_ between them both. Though, admittedly, his avoidance had been a futile effort.

He was standing in front of the door to his parent's room. There was still no indication that anyone was in the house with him. He opened the door and grimaced at the loud creak of its hinges. He made his way inside and immediately cocked his head to the side in confusion.

The room was still furnished.

The wooden bed frame that had been a gift from an older relative was still there. The broken lamp. The lace curtains. All of it.

“Hello, Eddie.” The voice behind him purred. Treacherous and familiar, “It sure did take you a while to solve my little riddle.”

“Hardly a challenge. I just like to take my time.” He tried to peer over his shoulder at the source of the voice. The woman hit him on the back of his head with the grip of her gun.

Ed woke up tied on the floor at the foot of the bed. His arms awkwardly twisted above him and secured by rope on the wooden frame. He struggled to free himself for a moment before realizing that he wasn't alone. He looked at the woman in front of him, his mouth hung open in shock.

“Kristen?”

She smiled. She was wearing an old fashioned dress with a prairie collar. Green. Wool blend. Her hair was in a ponytail and looked like it had been bleached blonde at one point.

“Are you real?” he asked

“Oh, Eddie...” she kneeled down and grabbed his face, “I am _very_ real. I was real last time too.”

“The woman at the wine shop?”

“The very same.”

“But... I thought I killed you.”

“You did. Sort of. The Court makes their clones rather...” he pursed her lips as she thought, “Resilient!”

“C-clones?” he inhaled sharply, “You're a clone of Kristen Kringle?”

“What's the matter, Edward? I thought you would be happy to see me alive and well.”

Edward was beside himself. He had prepared himself for rival gangs, assassins, even Indian Hill monsters... but clones? _Only in Gotham_ , he thought.

“What does the Court of Owls want?”

“Mayor Cobblepot is getting in the way of our plans. Apparently, he took that oath _seriously_ and actually cares about the citizens he serves! Pity, really. We had hoped he would see things our way. So, that means _you_ have to go.” she chuckled, “Kathryn said that I could have some fun toying with you. She told me so much about little Eddie Nashton and his mommy issues. I had planned on just driving you crazy and watching you rot in Arkham but luckily...” she grabbed at his throat, immediately cutting off his airway, “You came to me instead. So now I get the pleasure of killing you.”

He struggled under her grasp. He kicked and gurgled but nothing he did loosened the knots or made the clone of Miss Kringle cease her strangulation. His vision started to grow dark and his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

He figured this was what he deserved. If he had just allowed his mother to leave on that train, his father wouldn't have killed her. Maybe, his father would have killed him instead? What would that mean for Gotham? It would mean someone else would have worked in the forensics lab at the GCPD. Guerra would likely still be the medical examiner. Incompetent as always and still overlooking important details. Kristen would still be alive. Along with Officer Dougherty, Officer Pinkney, and even that nameless hunter. Countless others that had died at his hands while he worked as Oswald's right hand wouldn't be scattered to the wind. Oswald would be... dead. Most likely. Galavan would have succeeded and The Penguin would have died. Alone. In pain and unwanted in a trailer in the woods.

Edward heard a metallic ping and then the shattering of class. The woman, the clone, crumpled to the floor. Blood splattered like a gruesome flower on the wall behind her. A single sniper round lodged between her ears.

Within moments, Oswald was in the room with him. He hobbled over the corpse and threw his arms around Edward.

“Ed? Ed?! Please say something?” he cried

“I'm fine.” he coughed. His voice was hoarse. There was a familiar ache in his neck and shoulders.

Oswald cut away at the ropes to free his friend. Edward didn't hesitate to pull Oswald into another hug. Victor Zsasz arrived a few minutes later. A sniper rifle in hand.

“You alright, bud?” Zsasz asked. He had been genuinely worried about the man. And a little mad, if he were honest. The Penguin had called him in an outright panic. He had been a mess in the car. Rocking back and forth between crying and screaming about Ed's idiocy. Zsasz had a headache but it hadn't gotten in the way of his perfect shot between that bitch's eyes.

“I had it handled.” Edward joked. Oswald didn't find it funny in the slightest and punched Edward in the chest.

“You would have died if we hadn't shown up to save your ass!” He squawked

“Eh. Maybe you would've found a way to bring me back to life. Who knows?” he smiled, relishing the pain blossoming near his sternum. It was a dull pain. It hurt but it had been put there by Oswald. So he savored it regardless.

“You would have broken your promise.” Oswald glared. Edward's face fell.

Zsasz cleared his throat, “Should I call Gabe and the boys to clean up the mess?” he poked at the corpse with the barrel on the gun. Edward was grateful that at least a bullet to the brain had done the job this time.

“You haven't already?” Oswald raised an eyebrow

He escorted Edward to the limo that pulled up out front. Ed would be lying if he wasn't drinking in all of the attention Oswald was showering him with. He had even offered to make him ginger tea with honey when they got home. Something about Oswald's tone of voice and softness of his eyes made his heart swell.

“I'm sorry. About everything.” Oswald spoke

“What do _you_ have to be sorry about?” he tried to laugh but the pain in his throat prevented it, “I'm the one who waltzed right into their trap.”

“You weren't the only one.” Oswald sounded sad

“What do you mean?”

“You warned me... You told me that love was a weakness. And I didn't listen.” He gave Ed a sad smile, “Look where it brought us. It nearly got you killed. You've had to deal with all of... _this._ Whatever the hell it is. If I had just-”

Oswald's apology was cut short.

Ed's lips were pressed against his. It was soft and hesitant and ended far too quickly. Oswald looked up into his friend's eyes. Ed looked confused by his own actions. Edward's tongue darted between his lips as he contemplated doing it again. Oswald was certain he was mentally weighing the pros and cons. He simply rolled his eyes, pulled Edward down by his tie, and kissed him again. Edward flailed for a moment but didn't break away. Instead, he just sighed against Oswald's mouth and re-positioned himself so that Oswald didn't have to hold onto his tie. With his hands free, Oswald placed them on Ed's waist. The sudden touch caused Edward to deepen their kiss. He pulled the Mayor closer to him- a hand on his lower back and one on the back of his head. Oswald relaxed into the sensation. They had to breathe eventually though...

Edward pulled away but kept Oswald close, “Oswald... I think I'm ready to have that talk now.”

“G-good... That's good! Anything you want, Edward. I'm here.”

“I'm not sure what I want, Oswald... I'm still fairly convinced that I'm going to hurt you someday.” he let out a shaky breath. He was on the verge of hyperventilating, “Everyone I care about dies or betrays me... or both.”

“You honestly think that I would betray you?” Oswald asked, a bit indignant

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

Oswald's eyes widened. He wasn't entirely sure how to respond. It was true that a part of him might, given the right circumstances, allow his selfishness to override his conscience. He'd even entertained the idea of killing anyone who ever stole Edward's affections away from him. But, if ever they were in a situation where it was his life or Edward's... he would always choose Edward. He would gladly lay his life on the line for him.

“Whatever it takes... however long it takes... I will do everything I can to prove to you that I love you. Even if I have to do it from a distance. It's not like that's anything new for me at this point.” he chuckled

“Mayor Cobblepot, the good people of Gotham might suspect a scandal.” Ed grinned. His lips brushing against Oswald's as he spoke

“Let them.” he rolled his eyes and then slotted his mouth against Edward's again.

The _Cobblepot Crime Family_ had a nice ring to it. Consisting of the Kings of Gotham, an assassin, an English Bulldog, and a mute boy with curly hair.

...And maybe a rookery of penguins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the end! I hope you all enjoyed this. It ended up being waaaaay longer than I had originally intended.
> 
> Also, for anyone wondering, I am going to be updating my other fic later this week. I will probably post a one-shot between chapters of my main story until I get them all typed up. I have like... 4 still sitting in my notebook.


End file.
